


HOW IS HE SO FUCKING HOT. AND RESPECTFUUUULLLLL

by Oggser



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Debatably Crack, M/M, Not Beta Read, Rated teen for safety, based on a tiktok someone mentioned on a post about ragh, betcha thought youd never see THAT tag huh gayboy, fabian being dramatic, hangman POV, idk what tag that would be though, ragh doesnt actually show up but about fifty percent of the fic is just fabian complimenting him, ragh is strongman fat and fabian thinks he's the hottest motherfucker on the planet, the hangman also being dramatic, waxing poetic about your dumb hot gay friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28995183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oggser/pseuds/Oggser
Summary: When the Hangman decided to stake out the house party at Seacaster Manor, the last thing he expected was for Fabian Seacaster be the first to leave.Fabian has a crush. He's very dramatic about it.The Hangman is The Hangman. He's very dramatic about it.
Relationships: Ragh Barkrock/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	HOW IS HE SO FUCKING HOT. AND RESPECTFUUUULLLLL

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write fabian waxing homosexually about ragh and also to make a funney meme reference. i wrote this in less than 2 hours and i didn't beta read it, so take that into account lmaooooo
> 
> both the title and the idea for the fic are from this tiktok. idk either man i wrote this in less than two hours  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_81mTtPw-xM

When the Hangman decided to stake out the house party at Seacaster Manor, the last thing he expected was for Fabian Seacaster be the first to leave. 

The image he sees is almost comical; in fact, if he didn’t hold his sire in such high regards, it would _just_ be comical. Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill Seacaster, power walking with his hand shielding his face from one side, singular eye wide and cheeks flushed with some combination of confusion and fury while his head ducks down, shoulders high, making it look like his head has retreated into his torso like a brightly-colored sea lion. 

And he’s going straight for the Hangman.

 _‘Hangman!’_ Fabian’s mind shouts to him, _‘We have to leave! Now!’_

_‘S-sire? Is there danger? Do you need me to--’_

_‘We’re leaving!_ Now _!’_

The Hangman doesn’t ask any more questions after that.

_‘Very well. I shall take you to the other side of the earth if you say the word, sire! I will bring you unto Heaven and Hell if that is what your heart desires!’_

He closes the gap between Fabian and himself and waits for the warmth of his sire’s thighs upon his leather seat. He tries to ask for directions, but the only location Fabian is willing to give is _‘ **Away**.’_

‘Away’ isn’t too far off. His master seems satisfied with the bridge to the gilded coin less than a five minute drive from the manor, and they stop there. Fabian immediately huddles himself next to it into a little ball and open-palmed cradles his head in his hands.

The Hangman is now worried.

 _‘… Sire,’_ He asks, _‘are you alright?’_

 _‘No. I-- yes? No… yes, I’m… it’s_ fine. _I’m just…_ ’

Fabian audibly, physically groans, hissing like he’s touching a hot stove.

The Hangman doesn’t recall a time he’s ever seen his sire like this, though he’s heard about a particularly rough patch when the Hangman wasn’t there. 

“Oh my _God._ ” Fabian says, still speaking with his flesh mouth.

He doesn’t seem to be in _danger…_ but… 

_‘Sire, what happened?’_

_‘… Ragh.’_ Fabian replies.

_‘Ragh? The orcish boy?! He embarrassed you like this?! What shall you have me do, sire, shall my wheels grind him into the pavement where he stands--’_

_‘_ No! _No! No. Stop, he-- he didn’t do anything wrong, he’s… he’s just…’_

Fabian groans again, physically.

“Oh my _GOD!_ _HOW_ IS HE SO _FUCKING_ HOT?!” Fabian takes a deep breath, “ _AND RESPECTFUUULL!?”_

Were the Hangman to have a tongue, the cat would definitely have gotten it, or it’d be tied, or… whatever. The meaning behind the metaphor is that there is absolutely nothing he can think to say.

“There’s something _wrong_ with him, Hangman! People can’t just be that fucking _nice_ all the time! It’s-- that’s not how people function!”

 _‘Erm, sire.’_ The Hangman speaks up, _‘You are… aware, that you said that out loud, correct?’_

Fabian doesn’t respond, just flops over on his side, legs and arms still balled.

_‘Oh, dear. So, you… wish to… court, Ragh?_

_‘I… think so? I mean, no, yes. Yes. Yes, I do.’_ He speaks, in their heads.

Fabian thinks for a second, and appeals his response. _‘I want that more than I thought I could want anything. I think.’_

_‘Because he’s hot and respectful?’_

_‘And-- and_ kind _, and_ sweet _, and_ handsome _and_ strong _and_ soft _and_ warm _and he_ cares _about me for some reason, e-even when I give him so many reasons not to, he just doesn’t stop caring. About_ me _. He just doesn’t stop.’_ Fabian is on the verge of tears.

The Hangman’s engine rumbles warmly as he wheels next to Fabian and bumps into his shoulder with his front wheel. About the closest to physical affection a motorcycle can get.

 _‘Master,’_ he says, _‘may I ask you to tell me more about this man? You seem to care about him more than the sun in the sky… and, sire, my deepest apologies, but I was under the impression I should be helping you court_ women. _’_

“It’s _fine,_ Hangman.” Fabian scoffs, wiping his face, “I don’t know what my preferences are either, I just… Ragh is _my guy_ , he’s… I think I love him.”

The Hangman’s handlebars tilt a bit, like a human tilting their brow in curiosity.

_‘Please go on, sire.’_

Fabian rolls his eye. “Well, he’s… _pretty_ dumb, to be honest, but that makes him… I-I don’t know, listen? To other people?” He chuckles, then sniffles tearily.

“Just-- because he has trouble making decisions on his own, he compensates by just… caring. Caring _so much_ about other people, and what they have to say… and sometimes that’s a flaw, since, a lot of things people think are just… bad. _Awful,_ even, especially considering his circumstances, but… he just kind of… _cares,_ too. About… boundaries. A lot. And he’s just-- he’s so pleasant to be around it makes my _heart_ hurt.”

“And-- yes, I know I talked about this, but-- but he’s so _, so,_ fucking _hot._ He’s… tall, very tall, taller than me, at least six-four, broad as a barn, and… this is _not_ an insult, but he’s pretty fat-- though he’s… farmhand fat. His muscles aren’t defined, but they’re definitely… under there. Somewhere.”

“… But since that’s not the body type I wanted for myself, I didn’t think I’d be attracted to it but…”

“He-- it-- there’s… he looks so _warm._ Like-- like if he held me in his arms for too long I’d fall asleep, and I’d have a _really nice dream._ And I wouldn’t get anything done. But I wouldn’t care.” Fabian’s voice is fragile, quiet. He huffs out a sigh and clears the mucus from his throat.

“You’d probably love his thighs. They’re like tree trunks.”

_‘That does sound like a good pair of thighs, yes.’_

Fabian sighs. “Sorry. That was… way too much information, just-- just forget about it. You’re not going to need any of it anyway.”

 _‘Master.’_ The Hangman hisses lowly, warmly. _‘May I suggest something?’_

“O-of course,” Fabian nods.

 _‘Ragh… sounds like a most wonderful young man. I haven’t spent much time with him, sire, but from the picture your words paint… I cannot imagine anyone better for you. And_ you, _are Fabian Aramais Seacaster! There is_ nothing _that you do not deserve!’_

‘ _Bike that sounds like a bit of an exaggeration--_ ’

 _‘My point_ being _! If you love this wonderful, stupid, large man, you have to tell him before resigning yourself to misery. You yearn to be free of this uncertain hell, master, and you deserve everything you yearn for.’_

“… I’m going to tell him.” Fabian’s eye narrows, speaking with his mouth.

_‘Yes, sire!’_

“Bike, take me back to the manor! I’m ending this tonight!”

 _‘YEEESS, SIRE! The leather of my seat_ aches _for your shadow’s weight! We shall ride into the unknown and conquer Ragh as a member your own crew, and fly the jolly roger upon his heart! For Fabian Aramais Seacaster!’_

Fabian rolls his eye, “Bike, I’m just telling him I like him, I’m not going to _conquer_ him, seriously, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” He grabs hold of the Hangman’s handlebars tight, engine roaring furiously.

“I was just being dramatic.”

If the Hangman had a face, he would be smiling.

_‘So was I.’_

**Author's Note:**

> for the sake of transparency i'm not super in love with this fic, i just wrote it because i was bored and wanted to write something sappy. i'm trying to hold myself to lower standards, at least in the quality of writing itself, so even though its FAR from perfect (or even something i like), i hope you enjoyed B)
> 
> follow me on tumblr @raghsimp and twitter @notoriousmasc


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